


Hello, Honolulu

by AsgardianAngels



Series: Angband Modern AU [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Honeymoon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 20:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14004423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsgardianAngels/pseuds/AsgardianAngels
Summary: Newlyweds Mairon and Melkor prepare to leave for their tropical island getaway.





	Hello, Honolulu

**Author's Note:**

> I once said that I'd accept no other Dagor Dagorath outcome than one where Mairon and Melkor abscond to a nice big tropical island with a volcano and glittering shores where they could sip strawberry daiquiris all day. Somehow, that made it into the modern AU.  
> Another little snippet of our favorite villains' alternate lives. They are both 22 in this, having recently had their autumn wedding. (Yes, they moved very fast with their relationship; I tried to approximately follow how I imagined it progressed in canon as well). 
> 
> For your viewing pleasure, I'd also like to give you the floorplan to Mairon and Melkor's (originally Melkor's) apartment in Cincinnati, where much of the modern AU takes place (until they get filthy rich and finally move): [ Check it out here! ](http://bit.ly/2pkZFul)

Mairon tugged gently on Melkor’s hand, leading him further into the grassy field. The breeze fluttered through Mairon’s hair and across the meadow in a ripple of color. Melkor couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so carefree, and he took a deep breath of the sweet air.

“Come on,” Mairon beckoned, and Melkor ran with him, but it was as if the world was in slow motion. He couldn’t keep up, and Mairon yanked his hand more firmly. “Come _on_ ,” he insisted.

The words echoed around him, and the scene melted away as the nagging sensation cut through the surreal tranquility of his dream. Melkor opened his eyes groggily to find himself being dragged off the bed, a feat for someone of his size and Mairon’s stature.

“Come on, you lump,” Mairon said through gritted teeth. “I’ll teach you what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, you big pi – ”

“Whoa, hey, _hey_ ,” Melkor grumbled, and threw his free arm around like deadweight, smacking it against the pillow. “I’m here. I’m up.”

Mairon released his hand, and he stared squintily at the clock on their bedside table, bright red digital numbers searing into his brain.

“Five o’clock?” he bemoaned. He let his face fall back into the mattress, not caring in the slightest that he couldn’t breathe.

Mairon waited patiently for Melkor to run out of air, standing with arms crossed next to the bed. With a grunt Melkor finally hoisted himself up from the sheets, dragging a hand across his unshaven face. Lifting his gaze, he saw that Mairon was already showered and dressed. He was, per usual, utterly gorgeous. Melkor suddenly felt rather grimy in comparison.

There was a moment of silence between them, and then a beaming smile broke out on Mairon’s face.

“So - are you ready?” he asked gleefully.

Slowly the pieces of his memory fell back into place, and it hit him.

“Today’s the day,” Melkor uttered in disbelief.

“Today’s the day,” Mairon repeated, grinning madly. “Now get a move on.”

Heaving himself out of bed, Melkor lumbered out to the kitchen behind Mairon. At least one of them had a spring in their step this early in the morning. He stood in front of the stove absentmindedly, attempting to wake himself from his stupor, and after several disoriented blinks began gathering breakfast materials to him.

Mairon had seated himself at one of the bar stools and was leaning on the countertop of the island.

“So,” he started. “Our flight leaves at nine. We packed everything last night, so we’re doing good on time. I think – ”

“Pancakes?” Melkor interjected.

“Er, yes. Blueberry, if we’ve still got some. Should probably use those up. I printed out our tickets while you were asleep, and we got pre-TSA, thank God. I don’t want a repeat of the switchblade incident.”

Melkor leaned over his shoulder to cast an incredulous look at Mairon. “That was one time.”

“One time that forced us to cancel an entire show because you insisted on wearing those hideous khakis with ten pockets and then proceeded to forget their contents before going through the full body scanner. Yes, I do recall.”

Melkor debated in that moment whether he was still going to put the blueberries in the pattern of a smiley face after that comment, but thought better of it. It was too important a day to start it off with passive-aggressive fruit placement. After all, he knew Mairon was smiling behind him.

“I think everything’s gonna be just fine,” Melkor assured him, flipping the pancakes. “There’s no one I trust more to plan the big events in our life.”

He could swear a bit of a blush crept into Mairon’s cheeks at that.

A few minutes of comfortable silence followed, as Melkor tended the griddle and Mairon was presumably triple-checking the itinerary on his phone.

“Hey guess what?” Mairon coaxed. Melkor turned to see him with his face in his palms, smiling softly at him.

“What?”

“I love you.”

A grin tugged at his lips, and with an air of satisfaction he set a stack of golden-brown flapjacks down in front of Mairon. “Your pancakes are done. And I love you too.”

“You had me at ‘your pancakes are done,’” Mairon said, and reached for the syrup while Melkor joined him with his own plate. The early morning sunlight streamed through the living room windows, illuminating the city beyond them and bathing Mairon in liquid gold. He could feel the energy of this new day, tangible in the air, and he knew Mairon felt it too. They were leaving today.

“I’m so excited,” Mairon murmured, reaching across the countertop to take Melkor’s hand in his. The glint of his golden wedding ring caught Melkor’s eye. It seemed so right for it to be there. “Two whole weeks away from everything, just the two of us…” he sighed dreamily. “Sipping strawberry daiquiris in the sun – ”

Melkor shot him a skeptical glance. “Strawberry daiquiris?”

“Piña coladas, margaritas, the possibilities are endless, dear. As I was saying – I am very much looking forward to you sporting tacky Hawaiian shirts and flip flops – ”

“Ok,” Melkor laughed, “who are you and what have you done with my husband?” The word fell off his tongue so easily that his heart nearly skipped a beat when he realized he’d said it.

Mairon hopped off the barstool and put his hands on his hips. “I’ll have you know,” he said, brows raised, “that when I am thoroughly and completely removed from any and all sources of stress, I can be…” he pursed his lips, “…actually quite agreeable.”

The grin on Melkor’s face was growing.

“Get ready to meet Vacation Mairon,” he proclaimed, twirling on light feet around the island and pulling Melkor up off his seat. “Combined with the never-before-seen Honeymoon Mairon, I think I’m going to be dangerously chipper.”

Melkor laid a hand on Mairon’s waist and let him lead him in a little dance around the kitchen. “Finally, I’ll get to see you without that stick up your ass,” he cajoled.

“Mmm, room for you to put something else up there,” Mairon teased with a knowing smile.

“Is that so?” He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to Mairon’s lips. He was warm and familiar against Melkor’s skin, filling him with that sense of utter belonging that made him always reluctant to let go.

“Oh, just imagine,” Mairon breathed, head resting on Melkor’s chest, “us on the beach at sunset, making love…”

Melkor squinted. “On the beach?”

“Mm hmm…” Mairon nestled himself further into the fabric of Melkor’s sweatshirt. “Isn’t it the most romantic thing ever?”

“I mean…” he adjusted his arms around Mairon. “All I’m seeing is a lot of sand in a lot of places.”

“Then we can put a towel down,” Mairon mumbled.

Melkor scrunched his nose. In response to his silence, Mairon looked up at him crossly. “Will a hammock do, then?”

“That is the least stable surface I could possibly think of. Me and gravity are not friends, Mai. Would you really want me falling off at a time like that?”

Mairon freed himself from Melkor’s loose grip and stared at him indignantly. “It’s almost as if you don’t want to get laid at all on our honeymoon,” he remarked, quirking a brow. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.

Melkor scooped him back up into another tender kiss. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he whispered low. “I think we’ll make do just fine.” They had the whole rest of their lives now, he thought. It was an overwhelming feeling. He could have stood there, like that, for the rest of the morning, if Mairon hadn’t wiggled his arm free to check his phone, exclaiming about the time.

“Go, go, shower quick,” he shooed Melkor off and slid on his socks over to the sink to start washing their plates. “See, this is why I got up an hour before you,” he called to the bathroom. “Always taking romantic detours,” he tutted to himself. He couldn’t help but bite his lip as he blushed.  

Fifteen minutes later, which was record time by Mairon’s count, Melkor emerged clean-shaven and outfitted for a tropical getaway. Mairon may have been also, but it was sadly impossible to tell under his three outer layers.

“You know,” Melkor said as they rolled their suitcases out into the hall, “I checked the weather and it’s 85 in Honolulu right now. You’re gonna sweat to death.”

Mairon laughed, a clear, bubbling, sing-song of a thing that never failed to send Melkor’s heart aflutter. “85 for me is room temperature for everyone else. You’ll be lucky if you see me take off half of these before we’re cozied up in our hammock.”

Whatever made him happy. Melkor gave him a kiss on the cheek and locked up the apartment, breathing in the familiar scents of home one last time. No, he thought, as he followed his husband down the stairs. Home is him. Wherever life took them, now, Melkor would always be home.


End file.
